PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Two days since all the world was plunged in darkness;
two days, and how can hope again appear?
Two days, and our first thoughts are still for hiding.
But Mary---what---so early---brings you here?

I know.  I loved him, too.  And Cephas argued
against the journey.  We were steeped in fear.
And what had frightened us the most has happened.
What, Mary, did you think to tell us here?

The earthquake and the veil?  Yes, quite amazing.
The whole day was (to put it bluntly) queer:
events that some of us will not forget, soon.
Did reminiscence, Mary, bring you here?

In Galilee, they will be disappointed.
We need to go, to tell them.  All our gear
can be packed quickly.  We can leave in darkness.
Will you go with us, Mary, far from here?

Nonsense:  he is still dead.  The Roman soldiers
saw to that.  One of them thrust in his spear,
with blood and water gushing in the death-flow.

 Jesus is dead.  Mary, will you not hear?

What makes you think, now, that he has arisen?
Or has your breakfast been a jar of beer?
Your grief has driven you to incoherence.
Relax now, Mary, you can calm down here.

So they believed you?---young John and old Cephas?---
John sprinting, Chubby bringing up the rear?
What do we need with all this wild commotion?
For God's sake, Mary, why did you come here?
 
Starward
 
[jlc]